


A Kiss is Just a Kiss

by CaptainMarvel616



Series: Tumblr Prompts and Wrtings [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainMarvel616/pseuds/CaptainMarvel616
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of short little stories based on a list of kissing Tumblr prompts.  I'll be adding more as the week goes on and I post them.  Right now, there are six total.  Some are X Reader, some are OC, etc......</p>
<p>"You must remember this<br/>A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh.<br/>The fundamental things apply<br/>As time goes by.</p>
<p>And when two lovers woo<br/>They still say, "I love you."<br/>On that you can rely<br/>No matter what the future brings<br/>As time goes by."</p>
<p>- As Time Goes By</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> The Tumblr Prompt was Sam Wilson X Reader and 10. 'You Nearly Died' Kiss
> 
> You can find me at [captain-writing-marvel. ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/captain-writing-marvel)

“(Y/N)?” 

You heard a voice calling your name from some distance, but when you tried to open your eyes, you couldn’t see anything through the thick fog that was clouding your brain.  You tried to rub your eyes and nothing happened.  It was like you had no control over your right arm.  When you tried to sit up, hoping to clear your head, you felt a hand press you back gently.

“(Y/N)?  Relax okay?  Stay down.” 

As the fog slowly dissipated, things around you began coming into focus.  It immediately registered that you were in some kind of hospital room.  There was medical equipment beeping and flashing all around you, while tubes trailed from them to various places on your body.  Oxygen was being sent to your lungs through a nasal cannula that tickled your nose.  Once again you tried to move your right arm to scratch, and once again nothing happened.  You tried your left arm, and were pleased when it worked well enough to grab at the rubber tubing.  A hand gently grabbed yours and pulled it away, another hand adjusting the tube back into place.  You rolled your head up and found yourself looking into two very worried brown eyes.

“Nope.  That’s not gonna happen.  That tube is staying until a doctor tells you it can be moved.”

You groaned in the lights and he reached over to dim them to a much more comfortable level of brightness.  Hey there, Sam!”  You tried to sound cheerful, but your voice was gravelly and low.

He didn’t seem to be amused at your attempt at cheerfulness, anyway.  “Do you know where you are right now?”   

“With you?” You suggested hopefully.  Seeing the frown on his face, you shrugged.  “I’m in a hospital.”

“You are actually in the medical wing of Avenger’s Central,” he corrected you.  “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Well, I guess I got hurt.  I mean, that would explain the tubes and the beeping machines and the very disappointed look that you are giving me.” 

Since you were assigned as a liaison between Coulson’s smaller version of SHIELD and The Avengers, you and Sam had spent a lot of time together.  You had a lot in common and he had become one of your closest friends.  Although you’d never actually said it out loud, you’d be perfectly happy if it was more.  You were pretty sure that he felt the same way, at least until you saw the mix of disappointment and worry on his face. 

“You sure did.  You took a bullet to the leg, there are cuts and bruises everywhere, not to mention a broken arm.”  He gestured toward your right arm and you rolled your head to see that it was wrapped up in thick bandages.  At least now you understood why you couldn’t make that arm move.

“Ouch. I’m not feeling much right now, so they must have me on some pretty good meds.  Am I, I mean will I be okay?”

“Yeah, the shot was through and through on your thigh. A couple of inches to the left and it would have hit an artery.  You were lucky.  You’re gonna have to stay off of it for a while, which is going to be hard with that broken arm.”

“Great,” you sighed.  “They can give me one of those rolling things that you set your leg on.  I’m not using a wheelchair.”

“Actually, you are gonna do whatever the doc tells you to.  Apparently, following orders isn’t your strong suit, which is odd for a SHIELD agent, but you’re going to start learning.  I don’t want………” He paused, seeming to think he better not finish that sentence.  “What were you thinking?”

“I was doing my job, Sam.  You didn’t even see that Hydra agent, and if he’d gotten off a shot, who knows what might have happened.  You don’t have a suit like Stark or Col. Rhodes have.  You could have been seriously hurt or worse, and I couldn’t watch that happen.  I had your back.  I did my job.  How did I manage to get shot in the leg anyway? I had that guy on the ground and subdued.”

“I didn’t see what happened.  I just heard the gun shot and saw you fall to the ground.  It scared the hell out of me.  Your job was to guard the building in case anyone tried to get in.  Not risk your life for me.”

He’d never let go of your left hand, and you used it now to pull him down closer to you.  “I couldn’t help it.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you, but I had to do something.  If he’d shot you, there was nothing to break your fall or stop you from getting hurt.  I couldn’t risk losing you, Sam.” 

You knew the phrase could be used in friendship as well as a more romantic way, but when he leaned in even closer and pressed his lips against yours, you were relieved that he seemed to take it the exact way that you meant it.  Firm lips gave way to soft kisses on your cheeks and chin before he kissed you again on the lips and rested his forehead on yours.  “You’re the one who could have died, (Y/N), he whispered.  “I can’t lose you either.”

Both of you were so lost in each other and your unspoken declarations that you didn’t hear the door open, until the sound of a throat clearing got your attention.  “If I’d known that (Y/N) getting shot was all that needed to happen to get you to kiss her, Sam, I would have done it a while ago.  It’s about damn time.”

Sam didn’t take his eyes off of you while responding to his friend and team mate.  “Why don’t you get lost, Barnes?  Don’t you have an arm to polish or something?”  He kissed you again, and you responded eagerly, both of you completely ignoring any response Bucky Barnes might have given.

The End


	2. Baby Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - The Prompt was Clint Barton and 1. First Kiss. This is what happened. 
> 
> This story occurs in the MCU reality, and not comics.
> 
> It is also based off of kaffee32's story, [Broken Arrows in the Dark. ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6387196/chapters/14626396)
> 
> According to an online translator, Маленькая птичка is Russian for Little Bird.

Clint Barton sat in the passenger seat of Lola, Agent Phil Coulson’s prized 1962 Corvette.  His leg bounced up and down nervously as he willed the car to go faster than it already was.

“Can’t you go a little faster, Coulson?  This is a damn sports car.”

“One day we will have the technology to make my baby fly, Barton, but for now, we have to rely on the road and traffic.”

Clint was on his way back from a solo mission a few hours ago, when he got the call.  He wasn’t expecting it for a couple more weeks, but since he’d hung up, he’d been doing everything in his power to speed up the world around him.  First the Quinjet, which at least he could control, and now Coulson and his car. 

“Why does DC traffic have to suck all of the time?”  He mumbled to himself as he saw the cars in front of him coming to a slow stop.  “Seriously.  395 is a parking lot all the time, 66 is a nightmare, and this? 495? This is ridiculous!  Where do these people have to be?  It’s 11:00 at night on a Thursday, for god’s sake!”

“I know that telling you to relax isn’t really going to do any good, Clint, but raging against the red break lights in front of us isn’t helping either.  Romanoff is already there, and you know she’ll let you know if anything happens.”

That was the only reason that he wasn’t going completely nuts right now.  When he got the call, he let Natasha know what was happening, and she promised to leave immediately.  Follow up calls confirmed that she made it to his house in record time, and he knew that everything was being taken care of.  Still, it wasn’t the same.  Getting updates over the phone wasn’t anything like being there, and Clint made a promise to be there.  It was a promise he intended to keep.

It took them twenty more minutes to navigate the mess that was Interstate 495, before they hit their exit and traffic loosened up.  Soon they arrived at their destination, and Clint was out of the car so fast that he didn’t even bother with the door.  He found the check in desk and within minutes he was led upstairs.

When he entered the room, he found his wife lying in a hospital bed breathing heavily, while Natasha sat in a chair beside her, stroking her sweaty, matted hair and encouraging her.  The look of relief on both women’s faces almost made him laugh.  Laura’s because he’d made it in time, and Nat’s because she wasn’t going to have to do his job.  Not that she wasn’t ready for it.  She’d learned everything about breathing and comforting a woman in labor right along with him, just in case, but everyone was glad that she wouldn’t be needed.

“You made it,” Laura gasped between quick breaths. 

“I told you I’d be here, sweetheart.”  He took Natasha’s place as she stood up, taking his wife’s hand and kissing her gently.  “What have I missed?”

“The doctor was just here and says that it’s almost time,” Natasha replied.  Now that you are here, I’m going to go out into the waiting room with Coulson.”

“Thank you for everything, Nat.  You are a saint,” Laura replied. 

Clint grabbed Natasha’s hand and squeezed it, before letting go.  “Really.  Thank you for being there for us,” he said to his partner and closest friend. 

“You know I always will be, Clint.”  Natasha bent down and kissed Laura on the forehead.  “Hang in there.  It will be over soon, and you’ll be holding your beautiful Маленькая птичка in your arms.”

Natasha was right.  Clint barely had time to get settled before the doctor and nurses were back in the room, setting up the bed and the little bassinet that their son would be placed in.  Soon Laura was pushing and Clint was doing his best to be the supportive partner that he was supposed to be.  He wasn’t sure that those baby classes had really prepared him for the reality of all of this, or that he was doing anything right, but when they placed that slimy little baby on Laura’s belly, and he touched his son for the first time, none of it mattered.  All that he cared about were the two most important people in his life, right there in front of him.

“You are so amazing and beautiful, and our son is perfect.  I am the luckiest man on the planet,” Clint said to Laura after the nurses took Cooper away briefly to do all the necessary things that had to be done after a baby was born.

“I love you, too Clinton,” she replied with a smile that lit up his whole world.

Soon, the nurse brought the baby back, all clean and swaddled in a blanket and handed him to Clint.  “Mom’s going to need to try to feed this little guy very soon, but you should get a chance to hold him, Dad.”

Clint took his son from the nurse carefully, and held him close to his chest as little Cooper looked up at him curiously.  Laura rested her hand on his arm as he stared into the face of his son.  “Hey little guy,” Clint whispered.  “I know I didn’t have the greatest example of how to be a dad with my own father, but I promise you that I will be the very best dad that I can possibly be.  I love you and your mother so much, and will do whatever I have to in order to keep you both safe.”  He bent down and kissed his baby boy on the forehead gently, taking a moment to memorize the feel and smell of him.

There would be many more kisses in the future.  Kisses to sooth him late at night, kisses to chase the nightmares away, kisses to make him feel better when he got hurt, happy kisses, kisses when they were playing together or cuddling on the couch in front of the TV, kisses when Clint returned from a mission, and kisses to remind him that they still loved him just as much after his baby sister arrived.  However, nothing, not his job, not aliens, not even Loki taking over is brain could make him forget the moment he kissed his son for the first time.

The End


	3. Kickoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my own choice for the Kiss Prompts. I went with an original character just because it would be easiest to pick her team, etc…. This is an AU where everyone is friendly after Civil War, but Bucky is still frozen in Wakanda. I guess poor Sharon Carter never existed. (Sorry Sharon) Also the X-Men exist with the Avengers.
> 
> This seems appropriate for the kick off of the NFL Football season tonight. I had fun considering what teams these guys would root for, even though some were obvious. Most importantly, Go Cowboys!
> 
> The Kiss Prompt was 'Comfortable Kiss.'

Looking around the TV room at the Avenger’s training facility, Annabelle was very proud.  Everything had come together nicely.  The buffet table was piled high with every type of food that you could possibly want for a tailgate party, and just outside, Tony and Sam had the grill fired up and were cooking all kinds of yummy smelling meats and vegetables.  The refrigerator was stocked with soda and beer, and as she finished her quick check to make sure everything was ready, she grabbed a beer for herself and popped it open.

“Hey Steve?” She called to her assistant for this event, who was checking over the dessert table by helping himself to a few football shaped cookies that were frosted in Broncos orange and Carolina blue.  “Stop eating all the sweets!  There will be nothing left for the party!”

He looked a bit guilty as he swallowed the evidence quickly.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Annie.  I was just making sure that we haven’t forgotten anything.” He gave her his best innocent look, and boy was he good at looking innocent.  She just grinned, wiped a bit of orange frosting off his bottom lip and was surprised when he jumped a little at her touch.

Annabelle had been with the Avengers going on six months now, ever since she was sent to them by Charles Xavier as a liaison between the X-Men and the Avengers.  She had the ability of Telekinesis, which allowed her to move things with her mind, and Xavier felt that she could be particularly helpful to Wanda Maximoff, to help her learn to better control and use that portion of her power. They had become good friends, and that is how Annabelle managed to get Wanda to come to the party wearing her Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey. For herself, Annabelle chose her favorite, number 48, Daryl Johnston.  Growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, she had been a Cowboys fan since birth.  

One of the other perks of Annabelle’s job was meeting and getting to know Steve Rogers.  They’d taken a liking to each other almost immediately when they discovered that they both shared a love of sports, particularly baseball, and they would attend as many local games as they could.  Professional or farm teams, it didn’t matter to them. Steve couldn’t forgive the Dodgers for leaving Brooklyn and had a hard time rooting for the Yankees.  He did manage enough support for the Yankees to root for them when the Texas Rangers came to town a couple of months ago, though, just to tease her.

Annabelle handed Steve a gift bag decorated with little footballs on it.  “Since you haven’t settled on a football team yet, I thought I’d help you out for the party.”

Steve eyed her warily as he began to push back the tissue paper.  “If this is a Cowboys jersey, I’m not gonna………”  He never finished his sentence as he gaped at what he had just pulled out of the bag.  It was really more of a long sleeve sweater shirt than a jersey by modern standards, but it was an exact replica of a Brooklyn Dodgers jersey from the late 1930’s, when Brooklyn had an actual NFL team.  It had the number 39, which was the year that the Dodgers played in the first ever televised NFL game at Ebbets field against the Eagles, making NFL history and winning the day.  The back had ‘Rogers’ emblazoned across the top.

Annabelle bit her lip nervously as she watched him inspect it. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?  Are you kidding me?  My ma couldn’t afford something like this in the 30’s, and I used to dream of getting one.  I love it, Annie!”  He grabbed her and pulled her closer to him.  For a brief second, she thought that he might actually kiss her, but he hugged her tightly instead.  She had to admit that she would have preferred the kiss, but Steve had always been a perfect gentleman when they were together.

“Good.  I’ll get you in a Cowboys jersey eventually, Rogers. After all, you are Captain America and they are America’s team.  It’s obviously a perfect fit.  For now, though, I thought this would work just as well.”

“I was 19 when that game aired.  Bucky managed to convince old Mr. Thompson, who lived two floors above him, to let us come and watch it because he was one of the only people we knew that owned a TV and would let us use it.  Obviously we couldn’t afford to actually go to Ebbets and see it live.  We also couldn’t afford real shirts either, so we took a couple of old t-shirts and drew on them with some paint we found in my building. Mr. Thompson complained about the smell the whole time.  If Bucky could only see me now.”  He sighed loudly and she pulled away from him enough to look up into his very blue eyes.

“He’ll see it soon enough, Steve.  There are a lot of people working on his little problem.   Wanda’s even talked about going along when Xavier and Jean Gray go out to Wakanda next month.  If nothing else, being around Jean and Charles will be good for her to learn, and if any two people in the world can fix Bucky, it’s them.”

“I hope so.  I just can’t help thinking about all the stuff he’s missing.”

“Well, hopefully he can watch the Cowboys in the Super Bowl with us in February.  He’d look great in a Cowboys jersey too.  I mean, he already has a star on his arm.  We’d just need to repaint it,” she giggled.

“Yeah, if the Cowboys make it to the Super Bowl, I’ll wear a Cowboys jersey,” he teased her.  He seemed to realize that he was still holding her, because he awkwardly let go and turned his attention back to the shirt.

She finished her beer and grabbed another one, trying to ignore the view as Steve took off the shirt that he was wearing and put on the new one.  It fit him perfectly and she had to stifle a laugh as he ran to the bathroom to check himself out in the mirror.  

Soon the party was in full swing.  Although there were no Broncos or Panther fans at the facility, Annabelle asked everyone to come dressed to support their team for the kick off of the NFL season. Tony was in a Chargers jersey, while Sam, wearing a New York Jets jersey, teased him about Drew Brees leaving the Chargers and winning the Super Bowl with the Saints.  

Clint came in his Minnesota Vikings jersey and insisted that he liked the team because he was from Iowa, and they were the closest team to him, not because purple was one of their colors. When Natasha came in wearing an Aaron Rodgers Green Bay Packers jersey, Clint groaned loudly.

“Did Laura send that to you? She did, didn’t she?”  Natasha just nodded and smiled. “Damn Packers,” he grumbled under his breath.  “I love my wife, but she has horrible taste in football teams.”

Clint was comforted a little when Thor came bounding in wearing his own Minnesota jersey.  “I am looking forward to this grand clash of warriors,” he announced as he looked around the room.  “Of course, my support is with the Vikings of Minnesota!”

Everyone seemed to be having a great time eating and talking football as the game got started.  Steve had piled his plate high with food and taken a seat on the couch next to her, using the coffee table in front of them as a table.  

“The Broncos are going to lose this game so bad,” Annabelle announced after the kick off.  

“You’re crazy,” Sam disagreed.  “Did you and I watch the same Super Bowl in February?  The Broncos killed the Panthers.”

“Do you see Peyton Manning out there in a little orange and blue jersey, Sam?  What about Brock Osweiler?  No you don’t.  You see Trevor Siemian.  Maybe he was pretty consistent in college, but he’s a third stringer in the NFL that just got a huge promotion.  That’s quite a learning curve.”

“Yeah, but they still have the majority of their team to back him up,” Clint suggested.

“True, but see Cam Newton in that pretty little Carolina blue uniform?”  She leaned over Steve’s lap to look at Clint, who was sitting on the other side of the room. “If he can keep Von Miller off of him, he’s gonna have a great night and not let the Broncos beat him twice.”

She was surprised that Steve put his arm around her while she was leaning over him, and even more surprised when he left it there briefly, when she sat back up.  Seeming to realize that he needed his arm to eat, he moved it quickly, and Annabelle couldn’t help looking at him curiously.  It got even more interesting when he put his plate back down, and rested his hand on his own leg, right next to hers so that their hands were actually touching.

“Speaking of QB’s,” Tony distracted her.  “How’s Romo doing?”

“Now that’s not even nice, Tony. Dak Prescott’s gonna be ready to go on Sunday.  This is our year.”

“Yeah, Cowboys fans say that every year,” Sam chuckled. “At least before their inevitable crushing defeat.”

They spent the first quarter explaining the rules to Wanda and Thor, and the rest of the time eating and drinking, happily.  Clint, Sam and Thor all became very boisterous by the third quarter, but after Annabelle’s fourth beer, Steve went to grab her water instead, and insisted she drink it.  She was fine with that, because there was a fine line between tipsy and drunk, and she didn’t want to cross it.  Not to mention that Steve’s hand placement had progressed to entwined pinkies, and Annabelle was spending more time thinking about what was going with that than the actual game.  Every time she’d glance over at him, he was watching the TV intently.

When the game finally ended, everyone slowly left, leaving Annabelle and Steve in the room alone.  The food had all been packed up and put away, so there was nothing to do but relax.  Annabelle leaned back against the couch, and was surprised once again, when he wrapped an arm around her.

“Well, that went well, I think,” Steve looked down at her and smiled.  “Everyone had fun and it was a good game.”

“Mmmm.  Yep,” she replied as she twisted around to look at him.  “So what’s with the touching thing, Steve?  Are we doing that now?”  She didn’t quite mean to blurt it out like that, but he didn’t seem shocked by it, so she at least thought that was a good sign.

“Well, we could.  I mean, if you wanted to.”  Reaching over to take her hand in his, he looked at her with two hopeful eyes.   “Look, I’m terrible at this stuff, Annie.  I always have been, so I’m just going to be blunt.  I really enjoy spending time with you.  You’re fun and it doesn’t feel like I have to be anything other than who I am with you.  I guess I was hoping that maybe we could try to make it something more?  I don’t know.  Maybe you’d have dinner with me, at least to let me thank you for this shirt?”

Annabelle answered by pulling him down to her and pressing her lips against his.  Her mind was racing because Steve had just asked her to go to dinner with him, not to stick her tongue in his mouth, but that was exactly what she was doing.  He seemed startled briefly, but soon his hand tangled into her hair and he responded eagerly.

After a while, both of them pulled away to catch their breath and slow things down.  He didn’t let her go far though, moving himself so that she was resting her head against his shoulder.  “So, is that a yes for dinner?”

“I’d say that is most definitely a yes.” she looked up at him, still feeling a little embarrassed.  “Maybe I should apologize for, you know, taking your invitation to dinner and turning it into an invitation to make out with me. Women weren’t so forward back in your time, were they?”

“Some weren’t,” Steve chuckled, “but you all have a very rosy view of how things were back then, believing that everyone was pure and innocent.  I traveled for quite a while with actresses and showgirls.  I’m familiar with forward.”

“Steven Grant Rogers!  You are going to ruin your ‘innocent boy’ reputation,” she teased him.

“Well, if things went well at dinner, I was hoping to do that anyway.  You just beat me to it.”  Annabelle’s laughter was silenced as he kissed her again.

“There’s just one thing, Steve,” she sat up with a very serious expression on her face when they stopped. “I’m not sure that I can actually date someone who isn’t a Cowboys fan.”

“Hmm……..I suppose the correct answer here is to say, “Go Cowboys,” but I feel comfortable enough with you that I’m going to summon all of my Captain America strength and conviction and suggest that you’ll get over it.”  She planned to object vehemently to his comment, but he shut her up before she could respond with another kiss.


	4. Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request for Natasha x Female Reader. "A Kiss we had to wait for."
> 
> I panicked a little because I've never really written same sex, but hopefully it isn't awful. 
> 
> I do not write smut, so this story cuts off before anything good happens, even though it might be the most suggestive story I've done.

You stood alone on the small landing pad as you watched the Quinjet coming in to land.  It was a tradition that started soon after you agreed to take the job as the Avenger’s communications coordinator.  Before SHIELD fell, you were one of the best that SHIELD had, and when Fury suggested you for the job with the Avengers, you jumped at it.  Not only were you responsible for the communications equipment that the Avengers used on the jet and in the field, but you built listening devices and analyzed the resulting conversations.  You also managed communications while they were on missions and you always waited for them as you were doing now, when they returned.

You weren’t surprised to see unhappy faces as the team made their way off the jet.  What was supposed to be a routine base clearing had turned into a near-disaster when the bad guys there proved to be much more willing to die for their cause than the Avengers had expected.  Wanda Maximoff, one of the younger members of the team, had been grazed by a bullet in the mele.  

Clint Barton and Sam Wilson made their way out, crowding a disgruntled looking Wanda. “I am fine,” she grumbled as they forced her to head toward the medical wing.

“Hey, (Y/N).  God work keeping us in contact out there,” Tony Stark, who was technically your boss, waved before heading out to change.  Behind him, Natasha Romanoff made her way off the jet and headed right for you.

“You doing okay?”  You asked, but the look on her face told you that she was very much not okay before she even answered.

“Everything went to hell, the plan went out of the window, and I’m responsible for Wanda getting shot,” she replied matter-of-factly.  “Other than that, doing great.”

“You are not responsible for that.  I was listening, Nat.”

“She was with me and was my responsibility.  If we’d stuck to the plan, she would have never been in a position for that to happen.”

“Plans change.  It’s what happens.  You can’t control everything.”

“You have no idea how much I wish I could though, (Y/N).”  She looked at you through dark eyelashes, and for the briefest moment, you wondered if there was a double meaning there.

Meeting and becoming friends with Natasha Romanoff had easily been the best part of your job with the Avengers.  True, she was a deadly assassin and could be scary as hell, but once she warmed up, she was really just a great big nerd, and you could appreciate that.  The fact that she happened to be drop dead gorgeous was just a bonus, or a curse, depending on how you looked at it.  You would be happy to be more than just friends, but she was impossible to read, and her mixed messages didn’t really help.  Right now, that look on her face was giving you all sorts of ideas about her being in control.

“Hmmm.  Maybe we should go get something to eat,” you said, trying to change the subject.  “There’s pizza in the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that evening, you were in your room surfing the internet and relaxing before bed when there was a knock at your door.  Opening it up, you weren’t at all surprised to find Natasha standing there in yoga pants and an old baggy SHIELD t-shirt that likely belonged to Barton at some point.  She was one of your more common late night visitors and usually turned up after a mission more often than not.  You didn’t mind it at all, even though you found her motives confusing sometimes.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?”  She looked you over, taking in your pajama shorts and strappy tank top.  The action made you lick your lips involuntarily. 

“No, not at all.  I was just watching Horrible Histories videos on YouTube.”  When you saw her amused expression, you rolled your eyes.  “Hey, don’t laugh.  They are genius, and you can actually learn something.  How are you feeling?”

“Having a hard time sleeping, entertaining myself or doing anything, really.  I can’t stop thinking about how everything almost fell apart today.”

“You know that none of it was your fault, don’t you, Nat?”  You sat down on your couch with your back leaning against the arm rest and pulled her over to sit in front of you so that you could massage her shoulders and neck.  This was one of those confusing moments that you seemed to share with Natasha fairly often lately, but you also knew that it usually helped her to relax, which appeared to be exactly what she needed.  If the past was any indication, she’d allow this for a while before getting up and making an awkward excuse to leave. 

“I hate this feeling of losing control,” she sighed as your hands moved down her back, rubbing at stiff muscles as they went.  The thought occurred to you, as you tried to concentrate on what she was saying, and not the lovely arch of her neck that was right in front of you, that maybe being in control was not really what she needed.

‘Maybe you aren’t stressed out because you feel out of control, but because you are trying too hard to be in control.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, when you are out in the field, you want to control the variables, you like to know what’s happening around you, and what’s coming next.  It’s what you were trained to do, and I’ve watched you.  You’re very good at it.  When something happens to throw that off, I can only imagine how that would feel, and how hard you must fight to get things back on track.  Then you come back here and have a hard time getting that control back.  It’s got to be exhausting.”

“Maybe you’re right, but if I was in control, then there wouldn’t be anything to be stressed about.”

“I don’t think needing to be in control is your problem, Natasha.  You’re already very good at that.  I think that maybe needing to be out of control for a while, is more the issue.”  You hesitated briefly to say a quick prayer to whatever deity might possibly be listening before leaning in and pressing your lips on her neck, just under her ear.   When she didn’t push you away, you did it again with short pecks along delicate skin, before allowing your teeth to just graze her earlobe, and your arms to wrap firmly around her waist.  “Maybe what you need is to let someone else be in control for a while.”

You didn’t miss the goosebumps that sprang up all over her and you ran one hand slowly over her arm and across her chest to pull her back against you.  Her head fall to the side as you trailed kisses along her shoulder and neck before shifting enough to capture her lips with your own.  She kissed back immediately and tangled one hand into your hair, desperately pulling you closer to her. 

“Is that a yes?” You managed to gasp between kisses.

“Yes,” she responded breathily.  “Very much yes.  I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for a long time.  I just didn’t know if you…..” 

“I’ve been right here,” you assured her, “and I very much want this.”

“I know, and maybe I waited too long.”  She tugged on your hair hard enough to pull your head back, exposing your neck to her and a moan escaped from your mouth before you could stop it.  Remembering why this started, you broke off the kiss, pulling away immediately.

“Come on, Nat.  Stop.” 

She looked confused as she sought to catch her breath.  “Did I do something wrong?”

Holding your hand out to her, you waited until she took it, and led her over to your bedroom silently.  It wasn’t until you were standing beside your bed that you turned to face her, tugging on the hem of her top.

“You’re supposed to be letting go, not taking over.”  She looked briefly like she might object, but you kissed her again as you eased the shirt up, stopping only to pull it over her head and look her over appreciatively.  “You are so gorgeous.”  

“You’re not so bad yourself.”  When she tried to reach for your own shirt, you grabbed both of her hands in yours and pushed her back on to the bed, coming down beside her. 

“Stop, or I’ll get my handcuffs,” you whispered.  The idea of handcuffing the beautiful assassin to your bed turned you on more than you cared to admit, but you knew that getting her to let go of what was going on in her head was going to be hard enough without adding something else.  Seeing the way that she was looking at you, though, you hoped that maybe you’d get that chance when she was more comfortable with you.

“For now, hands up and hold on to the headboard.”  You guided her hands to the top of the bed, and she did what you asked.  “Good girl.  Now, hold on there, but relax and let go of everything else.  I’m going to take good care of you.”

“Yes,” she replied before your lips crashed back into hers.

The End


End file.
